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1 — The Orchard
The January air in the countryside was merciless. It slipped past thick padding, gnawed through fabric, and sank straight into bone.
Baek Cheon exhaled sharply as he shut the car door. White vapor bloomed before his face and vanished just as quickly. For a moment, he didn’t move. His hands remained on the handle of his suitcase as he stared at the massive structure before him.
The vacation house.
Even standing right in front of it, the sight felt unreal.
He could still picture that night vividly. A mandatory family dinner, the kind no one dared skip unless they wanted a week of disappointed phone calls. They had been seated in the living room, cups of tea warming their palms, when his mother casually announced her plan to retire early and move to the rural outskirts.
Baek Cheon had choked on his tea.
Eun Ryong had knocked into the coffee table, nearly sending the dessert tray flying.
Geum Ryong’s face had frozen into a single, eloquent expression that clearly said:
You must be joking.
Despite the unified resistance of three grown sons, the house now stood pristine before him, pale walls cutting a clean silhouette against the winter sky.
Baek Cheon slowly took in his surroundings. A hill rose behind the house, softened by a thin blanket of snow. Beyond it stretched the dense forest he had passed during the drive and beside the property line was an orchard.
Eun Ryong had mentioned it once during construction. A plum orchard, he’d said, sounding oddly pleased. Baek Cheon hadn’t visited even once. His mother’s retirement had meant inheriting her atelier, and the past year had buried him beneath an endless mountain of work.
Now, standing here, he finally understood his brother’s smile. The trees were bare, their branches etched with frost. Yet the orchard didn’t feel lifeless. There was a strange sense of order to it. As though something was waiting.
Or perhaps the faint curve forming on Baek Cheon’s lips had nothing to do with the orchard itself.
Beneath the largest tree stood two snowmen. One was tall and elegant, shaped like a rabbit. Beside it stood a smaller, leaner cat, pointed ears jutting upward. They were absurdly detailed, each wearing a scarf. White for the rabbit. Green for the cat. The scarves were crooked, but somehow that only made them charming.
Matching ribbons were tied to them as well. The rabbit wore its ribbon like a headband; the cat’s was looped around one ear, long ends fluttering in the winter wind. Surrounding them was an entire parade of tiny snow ducks.
Baek Cheon let out a quiet laugh.
Ridiculous.
And… charming.
Before he realized it, he had set his suitcase down and walked closer. Up close, the details became clearer. The rabbit leaned subtly toward the cat, almost protectively. The cat’s face...
Baek Cheon tilted his head.
It looked irritated.
“How,” he murmured, baffled, “do you carve irritation into snow?”
He pulled out his phone and snapped a picture.
Then his gaze lifted.
A ribbon was tied to a branch above them.
White and green silk, intertwined, fluttering against the pale winter sky.
Baek Cheon frowned.
Decoration?
The ribbons matched the snowmen exactly to be called coincidence. Must be tied with intention.
“Oh my, Cheon-ah!”
Baek Cheon startled. His mother was already waving from the porch, moving as if she intended to run toward him in slippers.
“Stay there, Mother!” Baek Cheon called, grabbing his suitcase and retreating quickly. “It’s too cold!”
She ignored him anyway, pulling him into a quick embrace and immediately launching into commentary about his coat and the drive. Baek Cheon nodded along, only half listening.
His gaze drifted back to the orchard.
To the ribbons.
To the rabbit and the cat.
Maybe, he thought, a faint smile tugging at his lips, this vacation house won’t be so bad.
2 — The Cat Bites
The next morning was colder.
Baek Cheon stepped outside wrapped in a thick padded jacket, clutching a cup of cocoa like a lifeline. The scenery beyond the window had been impossible to ignore—sunlight over untouched snow, the orchard gleaming like a painting.
Such beauty deserved respect.
He wandered without any destination. Somehow, his steps carried him toward the orchard.
The snowmen were still there.
Their scarves looked freshly adjusted.
Baek Cheon tilted his head.
Did someone fix them?
Swish.
The sound sliced through the still morning air that made Baek Cheon froze.
Swish.
Behind the tree where the snowmen stood, a figure moved. A young man, looking no older than twenty, was dressed in a thin hakama and light training clothes. It was an outfit that seemed suicidal in this temperature.
Yet, the snow beneath his feet had melted. A dark circle of bare earth surrounded him, steam faintly rising from his skin as if the winter itself refused to touch him.
Swish.
The sword moved like an extension of the man’s body.
Fluid, precise, and terrifyingly beautiful.
Then it stopped.
Crimson eyes met his.
The sword lifted, pointed straight at Baek Cheon’s throat.
“Trespasser.”
Baek Cheon swallowed. “I...my parents’ house is next door.”
The young man tilted his head. Then grinned.
“Oh. Then you’re not trespassing.”
He walked forward, resting the sword on his shoulder. As he passed the snowmen, his hand casually brushed the rabbit’s ear, straightening the ribbon. He stopped just a few steps away, his eyes dropping to the cup in Baek Cheon’s hand.
“That looks delicious.”
Before Baek Cheon could react, the young man reached out and stole the cup.
“Hey!”
He took a long, shameless sip. “Hot chocolate. Too sweet. But decent.”
“You can't just,”
“Sure I can,” the boy cut, handing it back. “You’re the one peeping at my practice. You must be the youngest brother. Dong Ryong, right?”
Baek Cheon’s eye twitched. “It’s Baek Cheon. Jin Baek Cheon.”
“Dong Ryong sounds better though. Well… your face is the best among your brothers, at least.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Baek Cheon said stiffly. “And since you’re younger, you should call me hyung.”
“Right, Dong Ryong hyung.”
“...”
The boy reached out and lightly tapped Baek Cheon’s cheek. His hand was shockingly warm.
“Anyway, I’m Cheong Myeong. Welcome to the neighborhood, Dong Ryong.” He turned to walk away, but paused, pointing a lazy finger at the irritated-looking snow cat.
“Oh, and be careful of the cat.”
“The cat?”
Cheong Myeong grinned. “He bites.”
3 — Biting Is a Choice
“Cheong Myeong, get down!”
“NO!”
“Cheong Myeong!”
Baek Cheon’s eyes were squeezed shut, his lips pressed into a grimace of pure resignation. The plan had been simple: deliver a gift box to the neighbors and retreat.
He hadn't expected to become a climbing frame.
Cheong Myeong was currently clinging to his back like a stubborn koala. His legs were locked around Baek Cheon’s waist, and his hands were plastered across Baek Cheon’s face, fingers splayed wide enough to block his vision.
“You’re heavy,” Baek Cheon wheezed.
In front of him stood the two other Cheong brothers.
Cheong Mun, the eldest, who had opened the door with the warm, composed smile now looked like a man watching his house burn down. He rubbed the back of his neck, his face flushed a shade of red that suggested his blood pressure was reaching dangerous levels.
Beside him, the middle brother, Cheong Jin, covered his eyes with one hand, his shoulders shaking with a mix of second-hand embarrassment and sheer exhaustion.
“Myeong-ah…” Cheong Jin hissed, his voice trembling. “Get down. You are clinging to a guest like a common parasite. Stop embarrassing us.”
“If I get down, you’ll take the wine. If I stay here, I’m safe!” Cheong Myeong countered, burying his face into the collar of Baek Cheon’s padded jacket.
“And he’s sturdy! He’s like a mountain! Why wouldn’t I climb a mountain if it’s standing right in front of me?”
“I am a human being, not a landform!” Baek Cheon snapped, his composure finally cracking.
Realizing he was powerless, Baek Cheon let out a weary sigh and handed the pears to Cheong Mun while carrying a twenty-year-old man on his back.
“I am so sorry,” Baek Cheon bowed as best he could.
He's not sure why he apologized for Cheong Myeong behavior. It's just felt natural to bow his head instead of stopping him.
On his back, Cheong Myeong only tightened his grip, smacking Cheong Jin’s hand away when he tried to intervene.
Reached the end of his patience, Baek Cheon grabbed Cheong Myeong’s cheeks and pulled them firmly.
“You have five seconds to climb down.”
For a moment, there was silence.
Then, Cheong Myeong leaned forward and bit Baek Cheon’s cheek.
Baek Cheon froze.
“….”
“….”
Cheong Jin stared.
Cheong Mun simply buried his face in the pear box.
“Just… bring him inside, Baek Cheon-ssi,” Cheong Mun whispered. “I’ll get the first-aid kit. For your patience, mostly.”
With a defeated huff, Baek Cheon stomped across the threshold, carrying the Cheek-Biting Menace into the warm, cedar-scented hallway. Once the door clicked shut, he finally managed to shake the boy off.
Cheong Myeong tumbled onto the wooden floor, still clutching the wine jug, and immediately began rubbing his reddened face.
“…You bit me,” Baek Cheon said faintly.
“You were hostile first.”
“That is not how hostility works!”
Baek Cheon pinched the bridge of his nose. It felt like he had aged for 5 years dealing with this kid.
“And I told you,” Cheong Myeong grinned, his eyes sparkling with a familiar, irritating light. “The cat bites.”
Baek Cheon stood in the hallway, surrounded by the smell of plums and cedar, and felt a sudden, heavy wave of regret. He had only been here for ten minutes. He only knew the kid for half a day, and he already knew his life was never going to be quiet again.
4 — Blackmail
“You bit Cheong Myeong.”
Jo Geol sounded genuinely awed, crunching down on another chip in the backseat of Baek Cheon’s car.
“...That was self-defense,” Baek Cheon replied flatly.
“You bit someone ten years younger than you, hyung,” Yoon Jong added, dripping with mock disappointment.
Baek Cheon glanced at the rearview mirror. The two young men he had met thirty minutes ago were suddenly very interested in the scenery. He shifted his gaze to the passenger seat.
“You told them,” he said slowly.
Cheong Myeong was slumped in the seat, unwrapping a chocolate. “You are the first person who dared to bite me. Even my brothers didn't dare bite me. The world deserves to know.”
Baek Cheon let out a sound that belonged nowhere in civilized conversation. An hour ago, he was a professional designer. Now, he was a blackmailed chauffeur.
“Drive us home, or I’ll tell your mother you bit me.”
Two months ago, after Cheong Myeong had bitten him, Baek Cheon had been running on pure, unfiltered rage. For reasons that still haunted him, he had bitten back. It wasn't a strategy. It was an overwhelming urge to bite those infuriating cheeks.
“I was not thinking clearly.”
“No, no, hyung, listen,” Jo Geol leaned forward eagerly from the back seat. “Cheong Myeong biting people? That’s a regular event.”
Yoon Jong nodded solemnly. “Weekly. Sometimes daily.”
“But someone is biting him? That’s unprecedented.”
“Historic,” Yoon Jong agreed.
“A once-in-a-generation incident,” Jo Geol added.
Baek Cheon closed his eyes for exactly one second.
When he opened them again, Cheong Myeong was watching him with blatant delight.
“You should be proud, Dong Ryong,” Cheong Myeong said, patting Baek Cheon’s arm enthusiastically. “To be the only one who could handle me, woah, yet myi jou”
“It’s Baek Cheon hyung. And stop making fun of me.”
Baek Cheon reached over and squished Cheong Myeong’s face with one hand, muffling his voice until they reached the house.
Right, he should just release his stress by squeezing those cheeks instead of aging for another 5 years.
But what was Baek Cheon hoped for? Of course Cheong Myeong would give him another bite. This time more special with chocolate on it.
"CHEONG MYEONG!"
From the back seat Jo Geol giggled and Yoon Jong covered his face in embarrassment.
5 — The Peach-Scented Chaos
If spring had been filled with pink petals, along with a concerning amount of blackmail.
Then summer was filled with…
“STOP STEALING THE PEACHES!”
“Not the shinai! Noona, put that down!”
…shouting and violence.
Unlike his usual summers spent beneath the unwavering loyalty of an air conditioner, Baek Cheon now found himself standing in a neighboring orchard, sleeves rolled up, sweat clinging stubbornly to his back as the sun bore down without mercy.
He wiped his temple with the back of his wrist and watched as Jo Geol sprinted across the orchard with a peach clutched in his hand, Tang Soso hot on his heels with a shinai raised like an executioner’s blade.
There was something undeniably hilarious about seeing a man of Jo Geol's stature fleeing from a woman half his size. Baek Cheon found himself smiling unconsciously at the chaos, only for the warmth of the moment to be shattered by a sudden, biting cold pressed against his cheek, making him flinch.
"It's hot. Drink."
On his side, Yu Iseol pressed a soda can into his cheek.
“…Thank you,” Baek Cheon said carefully. “But, Iseol-ssi,”
“It’s Iseol.”
“…Iseol,” he corrected himself. “Please don’t shove it into my face next time. I might bruise.”
Yu Iseol considered this.
Then nodded once and walked away.
Baek Cheon stared after her, cracked open the soda, and took a long drink. It was ice-cold, sweet, and blissfully refreshing.
The soda was cold but her sudden appearances, however, were terrifying.
It had been years since Baek Cheon spent a summer like this. No schedules. No fittings. No impatient clients breathing down his neck. Just sweat, sunlight, and people who felt closer to strangers than friends.
He had only met Tang Soso and Yu Iseol this morning, after Cheong Myeong had literally dragged him out of his room by the ankles, claiming, “The harvest waits for no man, especially not a lazy Dong Ryong.”
His mother had merely waved at him happily as he was dragged away, not even questioning it.
Then there were Jo Geol and Yoon Jong, who had apparently decided that meeting him a few times was enough to declare him family. It was strange. He was far too relaxed with them and the worst part was, he wasn't even questioning it anymore.
“Dong Ryong!”
Baek Cheon looked up to see Cheong Myeong perched in a tree. “Stop daydreaming and pick another peach! If you faint, I’m not carrying you.”
“I don’t need you to carry me! And it's Baek Cheon hyung!”
Cheong Myeong dropped down and tossed a peach at him. “Alright, Dong Ryong hyung. Go pick another one.”
“…It’s Baek Cheon.”
Baek Cheon covered his face.
His dignity meant nothing here.
Tang Soso finally landed a solid hit on Jo Geol.
Yoon Jong pretended not to see it.
Yu Iseol silently gathered fallen fruit as if nothing unusual was happening.
Baek Cheon exhaled slowly and tilted his head back.
Above him, ribbons tied to one of the orchard branches fluttered lazily in the summer breeze. Faded strips of cloth, knotted with care, their ends catching the sunlight as if they had always belonged there.
Baek Cheon found himself staring.
“…Why are there ribbons up there?” he asked at last. A question that had been lingering in his thoughts since the first time he saw it.
The noise didn’t stop, but Yoon Jong glanced up from the basket he was carrying.
“Oh. Those?” He hesitated, searching for the right words. “They’re to commemorate someone.”
“Commemorate who?”
“A stupid person!” Cheong Myeong shouted from behind.
“Someone very important,” Yoon Jong corrected, rubbing his temples. “And very… dense.”
Cheong Myeong clicked his tongue. “Dense is generous.”
Baek Cheon looked back up at the ribbons.
Important, but stupid.
Yet, he had seen Cheong Myeong fix those ribbons every single morning, whether it was raining or snowing. He did it quietly, as if it were the most important task in the world.
Wasn’t that… respect?
The thought settled strangely in Baek Cheon’s chest—warm, unfamiliar, and oddly comforting.
“So even Cheong Myeong has a side like that,” he murmured.
“Dong Ryong.”
Baek Cheon flinched.
Cheong Myeong was looking at him. Not grinning, not mocking, but with something sharp and unreadable, as if weighing him.
“…Why are you staring at me like that?” Baek Cheon asked warily.
Cheong Myeong tilted his head. “I’m wondering which part I should hit.”
“…Hit?”
“The head is traditional,” Cheong Myeong mused. “But the back might be more efficient.”
Yoon Jong dropped the basket. “NO.”
“I’m joking,” Cheong Myeong waved him off. “Mostly.”
Baek Cheon took a step back. As sunlight filtered through the leaves, he felt it clearly that his quiet, orderly life was already slipping through his fingers. And for some reason, he didn't try to catch it.
The television in the Cheong family living room was on, volume turned low, playing something dramatic and utterly ignored.
Every person in the room was far too busy discussing something far more important.
“At this rate,” Jo Geol said solemnly, arms crossed, “should we just hit his head?”
“How dare you suggest violence against Sasuk.”
The rebuke came with a sharp smack to the back of Jo Geol’s head, courtesy of Yoon Jong.
“Ow!” Jo Geol yelped, jumping to his feet. “Listen, hyung! We’ve tried everything! We showed him our brand of chaos. We insulted him. I even got chased by Soso noona right in front of him!”
“I told you not to eat the peaches,” Tang Soso cut in calmly.
“AND,” Jo Geol continued, jabbing a finger across the room, “even Cheong Myeong bit him!”
Silence fell.
“…That is true,” Yoon Jong admitted slowly.
Tang Soso turned her head, eyes narrowing. “You bit Sasuk? This is new information.”
Cheong Myeong, sprawled across the floor like a satisfied cat, lifted one hand lazily.
“He bit me back.”
“…What?”
“It was mutual,” Cheong Myeong said, utterly unapologetic. “I thought it might trigger something.”
“…Did it?”
“No.”
A pause.
“But,” Cheong Myeong added thoughtfully, “still worth it.”
The room collectively decided not to unpack that.
For the past few months, ever since they had discovered that their Sasuk had reappeared as Cheong Myeong’s new neighbor they, especially Cheong Myeong, had tried everything they could think of to jog his memory.
Coincidences.
Shared places.
Chaos.
Pain.
Unfortunately, Baek Cheon remained stubbornly, painfully oblivious.
To him, they were just a group of eccentric, overly attached neighbors.
And today, the “Sweet Neighbor” approach has officially expired.
“Where there is will,” Cheong Myeong said slowly, scratching his chin, “there is a way.”
Every single person in the room stiffened.
“…I don’t like that tone,” Yoon Jong muttered.
Cheong Myeong’s eyes lit up.
“Right,” he said brightly. “We hit him on the head and roll him down the back hill.”
“NO! You said it yourself no violence!” Yoon Jong shouted, lunging forward and grabbing Cheong Myeong around the waist.
“That was before I realized he’s even more stupid than he was back then!” Cheong Myeong yelled back, kicking viciously as Yoon Jong struggled to hold him.
“I tied his ribbons,” Cheong Myeong continued, voice rising, eyes blazing, “like a crazy person for five consecutive years! Five! Do you know how many mornings that is?!”
“I KNOW,” Yoon Jong cried, sweating. “YOU MADE ME HELP!”
“And he dares,” Cheong Myeong snarled, pointing furiously toward an imaginary Baek Cheon while completely ignoring Yoon Jong’s pleas, “to remember nothing? Not a single flashback! Not even a sneeze of recognition?!”
As Cheong Myeong ranted, Jo Geol leaned toward Tang Soso, lowering his voice.
“…Of course he’s enraged,” he whispered.
“They were married back then,” she murmured back. “And now Sasuk doesn’t even remember him.”
Jo Geol winced. “That’s… yeah. That’ll do it.”
Cheong Myeong’s struggles suddenly stopped.
He went unnervingly still.
“My patience has completely evaporated.”
From the corner of the room, Yu Iseol nodded once.
“Head,” she said. “We should hit his head.”
“NOT YOU TOO, ISEOL NOONIM!” Yoon Jong screamed. “Jo Geol! Soso noona! HELP ME!”
Jo Geol and Tang Soso exchanged a long, silent look.
In that single second, a dark agreement was formed.
“I’ll catch Sasuk,” Jo Geol said, already cracking his knuckles.
“I’ll patch him up,” Tang Soso nodded calmly.
“YOU PEOPLE ARE INSANE!” Yoon Jong wailed.
Cheong Myeong, still half-restrained, grinned.
He felt satisfied.
By the blossom, there was no way he would let the oblivious Baek Cheon stay that way. If he had to strike his sasuk's back the same way he'd beaten him in their past life, then so be it.
Surely, the "Righteous Sword" of this era was strong enough to survive a little "tough love" from his favorite sajil. Righttt???